Page:Bide ye yet (1).pdf/4

 In days when our King Robert rang,

His trews they cost but half-a-crown,

He said they were a groat o’er, dear,

And ca’d the taylor thief and lown.

He was the king that wore a crown,

And thou the man of low degree,

'Tis pride puts a’ the country down,

Sae tak thy auld cloak about ye.

Every land has it’s ain laugh,

Ilk kind of corn it has it’s ain hool,

I think the warld is a’ run wrang,

When ilka wife her man wad ruie;

Do ye not see Rob, Jock, and Hab,

As they are girded gallantly;

While I sit harklin’ in the ase,

I’ll Lae’ a new cloak about me.

Gademan, I wat ‘tis thirty vears

Since we did ane amther ken ;

And we have had between us twa

Of lads end bonny lasses ten;

Now they are women grown and men,

I wish and pray well may they be;

And if you prove a good husband,

E’en tak’ your auld cloak about ye.

Bell my wife, she lo'es hae strife;

But she wad guide me, if she can,

And to maintain an easy life,

I aft maun yield, tho’ I’m gudeman;